Glide Path
by AbiSnow1998
Summary: Alan gets more than he bargains for on his way home from a trip to the mainland. His plane is out of fuel and is gliding. To make matters worse, the only way to track where he is can only be done with primitive tracking methods. Can he safely land the plane, or will he be destined to fall?


**Okay so I wrote this as a ficlet suggestion for **_artisticrainey-stuff_** on tumblr, who said they didn't know a whole lot about planes to make it work. I don't either (internet thank you), but decided to write this anyway:**

**"How about one of the brothers is flying in a plane but is deliberately sabotaged (by the Hood or anyone) so that it has half the fuel it requires, so it has to land somewhere but is literally gliding. But fuel powers the main computers and really good GPS, so they have to land without the assistance of computers (or at least the really basic backup GPS that is at least 50 years out of date)."**

_Alan gets more than he bargains for on his way home from a trip to the mainland. His plane is out of fuel and is gliding. To make matters worse, the only way to track where he is can only be done with primitive tracking methods. Can he safely land the plane, or will he be destined to fall?_

**P.S. This is based on Thunderbirds Are Go! 2015 series. A guest reviewer for "Not so Bright-eyed..." said that John's hair is supposed to be blonde and Gordon's is ginger and that Grandma was soft spoken and a good cook - That is true to the _original series_ and I appreciate that because my other stories follow that appearance because they are based on the original. "Not so Bright-eyed..." was a TAG 2015 story, so I had written John as the redhead and Gordon as the blonde, and I am not sure if they know that a recurring joke is how bad Grandma's cooking is. (Also how it is Kayo and _not Tin-Tin_, and how there are holograms and an absence of Jeff). I stated that at the start of the story and I am doing it here, too. You have been warned.**

* * *

Refuelling the plane is an important job, as well he knew. But this plane didn't belong to just _anyone_, it belonged to the late great_ Jeff Tracy_. And one of his sons was currently piloting it, but the pilot of _this _ plane is also the pilot of the mighty Thunderbird Three.

The Hood smiled through his disguise as he worked to refuel the plane. Of course, he didn't exactly want the trip for him to be easy. He needed the island empty for what he wanted to do, and when the youngest son realises that he will not make it home, out comes the cavalry to rescue the rescuer, but no one will notice him for what _he _needs to do. And as he watched the plane taxi onto the runway, he noted that the boy was going to be an excellent pilot until he realises that something is horribly wrong. He waited until take off before leaving _a little message_ for International Rescue, but for his niece more specifically.

* * *

"All lights are green. Okay New York Tower, beginning taxi onto runway 2-9."

"Roger Mister Tracy. The skies are clear for you, no bad weather reported, take-off acknowledged."

"Roger."

Alan taxied expertly onto the runway from the hangar at the airport, where his father's private jet resided and was currently being piloted by himself. The skies were blue and not one single cloud was in sight.

Alan had been in New York to run an errand for his father's business, but since the people who would normally run such a business errand, such as Scott, Virgil or even Gordon, were currently doing their own work for the _family business_, left Alan the only one available to complete the business deal. Not that he was eager to go, but it gave him a few days to do what he wanted to on his own.

"Tracy, you are cleared for take-off."

"Acknowledged, see you!"

"Have a safe flight."

Alan turned off his microphone as the plane sped up and up, not in taxi anymore, and let out a feel-good "WOOHOO!" as he felt the plane lift up from the ground and into the atmosphere, high above the ground. The sky was ever advancing on him, enveloping the plane within the white fluffy clouds. He acknowledged the transmission from New York Flight Control and took off in the direction of home, the secluded island he called home.

"Tracy One to Tracy Island, come in please."

Alan became more than concerned when no-one seemed to answer him. He repeated the transmission call and wondered if he should contact John in Thunderbird 5, or if his radio was completely shot.

"Hiya, Alan." The hologram face of Gordon appeared on the screen. His face and hair were patted down, wet from his obvious swimming trip.

"Hey, Gords. What took you so long?"

"I was swimming and couldn't answer the radio in time."

"Where are the others?"

"Japan. There's been an Earthquake and satellite imaging detects a tsunami on the way, so they left to help deal with it." Gordon explained.

"Okay then, I was just calling to say I have left New York and shall be arriving home at fifteen-hundred hours, your time." Alan explained, casting a glance at the two clocks he posessed. One was permenantly wired to the time-zone of their island home, the other was the time-zone he was in currently.

"F.A.B. Alan, see you in a few hours."

"Tracy One, out."

Alan hummed softly to himself to keep himself sane as he flew. Yes, it was lonely and yes, he missed his brothers. Normally, if his brothers were on their way home, they would be able to live without radioing in for the rest of the journey, but Alan got bored quicky. Yes, he has focus on his work, but lonliness settles in and this is why it is always better to have a co-pilot. The only reason he doesn't is because of the lack of bodies able to partake in rescues if one came through.

He had been flying for well over an hour when he noticed something odd.

There was a beeping sound coming from above him, and a red light accompanied it. Alan tried to look around for the source.

"Fuel pressure? Why would that be?" He said to himself. The left fuel pump was not detecting a lot of fuel and this was concerning considering that it was supposed to be completely full when he left New York an hour ago. Then he noticed that the fuel gauge was low. Not leaking, there was no sign of it. There just wasn't a full fuel tank to say that he had been flying for little more than an hour, and to get from the very top of North America to the South Pacific requires a full fuel tank. Just why he didn't have one was concerning. He felt a little bit concerned for a malfunction. Just why was it saying that he didn't have a full tank of fuel?

The left fuel pump was warning him to critically low pressure in the fuel pumps. "Something's wrong with the fuel pumps..." He pressed the button and the light stopped flashing and it stopped beeping, but it didn't stop it. This plane has three main fuel tanks - one in each of the wings and one in the centre (only used for long distance) and the engines draw fuel from all three. A low pressure warning _could _mean that the pump needs maintenance. He would get Brains to look at it, maybe that was giving off the half-full fuel tank gauge its reading.

But this could also be a more serious issue.

A lack of fuel. A legitimate lack of fuel being pumped.

Another warning sounded, this time it was the _entire _left engine. "Uh oh, this isn't good." He should have enough fuel for the remainder of the flight, but this warning told him otherwise. Alan cursed himself. He was flying over several residential areas and not one airport or landing strip or equivalent.

"Thunderbird Five, this is Tracy One calling International Rescue." He said this over his radio, realising that he was having a very real problem.

"Thunderbird Five to Tracy One. What's wrong Alan?" John's hologram appeared before him.

"Yeah, John, I may have a _slight _problem with my fuel pumps..." Alan said, looking at the gauge before him.

"You're on my screen now, what's up?"

"I have a critical low pressure warning on my left fuel pump. It's like I don't have a lot of fuel and I have only been flying for an hour."

"I have the details from your plane, yeah. Why is that sounding?" John asked, hearing the resounding _beep beep _warning lights over the radio.

"It could mean that is needs maintenance, but -" Alan started before seeing more frantic beeps and flashing lights. He swore loudly. "My right fuel pump is giving trouble too!"

"How much fuel do you have?"

"Supposedly enough for the rest of my journey, according to my Flight Management Computer, but that is clearly not happening!"

"Alright then, I'll send Thunderbird 1 to intercept."

"I thought they were in Japan?"

"They've nearly finished. Just hang tight, Alan."

* * *

John Tracy swore loudly and repeatedly when Alan suddenly disappeared from his radar.

"Scott, it's John. Alan's gone!" John reported to his older brother.

"What do you mean?" Scott replied, looking worried as he sped across the world in Thunderbird One. Scott had been informed of the problems Alan was having and had no qualms to jump into Thunderbird One half an hour ago, but there was a building that collapsed with two people trapped within. So he _had_ to stay and help them.

"I mean he has disappeared from my radar, like vanished. I'm sending you his last recorded location." John sent the transmission through, but simultaneously tried another method of contacting Alan, something strictly _International Rescue. _If this was a regular commercial plane, there would be no hope of contacting him. No hope whatsoever. But Alan's personal transponder radio was working perfectly fine.

"Alan? Alan do you copy?" John asked. "Please, Alan, come in!"

"John. I've got no instruments. I've lost one engine and I have no instruments." He said dumbfounded. Now that he thought about it, Alan did indeed seem a little darker because the lighting didn't seem as strong. There were no sounds behind him. According to his screens, Tracy One was tilting drastically after the loss of one engine. "I don't have a clue where I am or how long it will be before I run out of fuel completely."

"Okay, let's not panic. I can't trace your radio, but you remember what Dad's plane has?"

"What?"

"It has one of the earliest, and best, computers on that plane. It has a GPS, but it isn't as pinpointing and its range is not big. I am trying to track you now."

"John, where is Scott and Virgil?"

"They're on their way, give them ten minutes."

"I may not have ten minutes!"

Suddenly, all the background noise in the radio silenced. Alan gasped and then there was silence. His radio was in working order, but something had gone _very wrong._

"John, I just lost my only remaining engine. I'm gliding. I don't think I have much longer."

"Listen, I can see an airport within fifty miles, south-south east of your current location. I will contact them and arrange an emergency landing. I'm sending you the coordinates now."

"_International Rescue, please respond!" _Another voice over a different radio spoke up, catching John by surprise. This was the last thing they wanted or needed.

"Sorry, Alan, I'll get right back to you." John changed frequency. "This is International Rescue, what is your situation?"

* * *

Kayo was feeling very much worried. When John had reported to her and Gordon that Alan's plane had only half the fuel it required, she got straight on to New York and asked to speak with the person who refuelled the plane. They reported that whoever it was had gone, and the person who was _supposed _to refuel the plane had been mugged that morning and was currently in hospital. This rang alarm bells in Kayo and did not waste any time in boarding Thunderbird S and flying out to New York to investigate who had deliberately sabotaged the fuel.

Landing in the same hangar that Alan had once been in, she found something for her eyes only.

_Can you save him, and your beloved island Kayo?_

Kayo realised who had written this, and that they meant business. She was glad she came alone, and she felt a washing feeling of dread through her. Her uncle had sabotaged Alan, someone who is her brother in everything but blood, and his plane. And now Alan is in serious trouble.

"International Rescue, Kayo here. It was definitely sabotage."

* * *

Scott was speeding across the landscape, the sun was pouring above him as he flew over fields and buildings, murmuring to himself. How could he be so stupid as to let his little brother go to that meeting? Normally he would do, and he would know how to land a gliding plane himself. Hell, he would have spotted it early enough to prevent this kind of situation! But what's done is done, and Scott had to get to his baby brother before he completely crashes.

"Tracy One, this is Thunderbird One. How're you doing?"

"Do I have to answer that?" It was deathly quiet on the other end.

"No, I think I can see you on the horizon."

To say that Alan was gliding at a currently unknown rate of descent, he was still very high up. And as long as he was high up, he had time. "I can hear you. John? How long do I have before I crash?"

"At your current velocity, you have half an hour."

"Yeah, um, John? I don't know if you know, but I will have crashed before I reach the damn airport! It's thirty miles from me, and I only have about twenty before I hit the ground with one hell of a _ka-boom_!"

"Alan, calm down. John, is there any kind of freeway we can attempt a landing on?" Scott suggested flying alongside his little brother. Scott could see Alan leaned forwards in his seat, ignoring all of his screens because none of them were working. The thing that terrified Scott was the lack of noise. He had flown past aeroplanes before and the noise alongside his own engines was deafening at the best of times, but the fact that his little brother's plane was silent and people beneath them would know that even though a plane was in the air, there is _no_ sound escaping it.

"Negative, but..."

"But? But what?!" Alan gasped.

"There's a racetrack about ten miles west of you. It's a decommissioned Air Force Base. It looks empty at this point."

"So that seems to be the best place to land?"

"Looks it. Changing course now."

"I'll contact the emergency services and send them there to assist in landing -"

"Okay John, there is just one _slight _problem..."

"What?"

"_International Rescue... what a surprise."_

* * *

The voice over the radio struck fear to the oldest blonde of the family, and the instant that he recognised the voice of the man who was plotting against them was unnerving. Kayo had flown home moments before and had joined him in the lounge, watching the shadowy hologram speak to him and his family.

"_I am sure that by now you know the situation your brother resides in, and I wish to inform you of an impending disaster on your island if you don't agree to my very simple_ terms." The Hood sneered over the radio, and Kayo was dumbstruck.

"What do you want, Hood?"

"_First, I want your engineer. Second, I want your Head of Security. Last but by no means the least, I want all four of your Thunderbird craft, and access to your satellite._"

Gordon would have let out a low whistle, but the reference to the island he was currently _on_ was the worst part. If what he was saying is true, then he, Grandma, Kayo and Brains were in serious trouble. But then again, Kayo, Brains and the _world_ were in serious trouble if they agreed.

"And why do you want them?" John spoke up.

"_Never mind why... but I would like them within the next hour or I will destroy your base and Thunderbird Five_."

The transmission ended.

"Guys, I am telling you now..." Kayo began. "That we are _not_ going to agree to his terms. Gordon, come with me."

* * *

"Welcome to the party, Thunderbird Two. We have a situation."

"What?"

"The way I calculate it, I'm too close. I have two options..." Alan said with a sombre tone of voice. "I could keep going at my current rate of decent, and miss the track."

"That can't happen."

"And two: I drop to a lower altitude and glide along the track. The problem with that is that I would pick up a very dangerous amount of speed and most likely drive straight _off_ the track."

"That can't happen either."

"Well, those are the two options and I only have one shot at this. This isn't like Kayo and Fireflash. I have _no fuel._ I can't go back up if it doesn't work at all."

"We can't let you just crash, though."

Alan sighed. "Well... I guess I'll just have to slip it."

Scott, on Virgil's hologram projector, looked up. "Wait, what? No, Alan. You can't do that!"

"You did this in the air force!"

"I did it _at my base_ where there was ample runway if I did your latter suggested!"

"I CAN'T DO A FULL 360 DEGREE TURN TO LOSE ALTITUDE, SCOTT!"

"Slipping it is not the answer!"

"Well, you're gonna have to guide me in, aren't you?"

"Guys -"

"No, Alan, it's too risky."

"Guys..."

"It's more risky if I try my first two options!"

"Guys!"

"Come on, at least with those there is no chance of dying sooner!"

"Guys, can someone please explain to me and John what 'slipping it' is?"

"Basically, Alan is going to try a manoeuvre known as a 'side slip'. It's rarely used, mostly by glider pilots. It involves 'crossing the controls', forcing the plane into a sideways freefall, allowing him to drop quickly without increasing forwards airspeed. He's trying to induce drag in the fuselage, but it's dangerous on a plane. If he gets it wrong, the whole thing goes to hell."

"Right, I'm gonna need to start it now, though..."

"I'll guide you in from here."

* * *

"You're all clear, Kayo."

"Commencing H.A.L.O. drop."

Kayo freefell through the air over the Malaysian jungle, gliding towards nothingness within the greenery. There was nothing discernible that she was dealing with, but Gordon was comfortable flying Thunderbird Shadow away until she needed collecting. Kayo deployed her airbrake and wasted no time in sprinting towards the small, almost invisible opening underneath a grand tree at the top of the cliff. She knew what she needed to do, and Gordon had no clue why she chose to maintain radio silence. She didn't want to run the risk of Gordon finding out. Gordon wanted to make sure she was okay.

* * *

"Deploying landing gear."

Alan was sweating on the spot, nearly in tears at the insinuation that Scott made, that he could die if he failed. He could die if he didn't try anything. His heartbeat was pounding in his ears with resounding echoes. He saw the runway ahead of him, and he forced the wings of the plane to one side and turning the whole aircraft to the other, the rudders to the right and the yaw to the left.. He watched the light for landing gear. Without hydraulic power, the best hope for landing gear was gravity dropping it, locking them into place. The back two, the main two had locked and confirmed, safely secured. He could clearly hear the main gears. The nose landing gear, the lighter of the three, did not. Alan kept this quiet, he didn't want to worry Scott any more than he had to. To make matters even worse, the flaps that help slow down the plane on descent are also run by hydraulic power. Alan had no hydraulic power. This was getting more and more dangerous. The turbulence was getting overwhelming and rocking him. It was hard to look straight ahead without jostling to the movements. His throat was making funny noises as a result.

"Steady, Alan..." Scott voiced.

Alan wiped a tear from his eye. "Guys... if I don't make it..."

"If you _dare_ finish that sentence Alan, I swear to god -!"

"Shut up Scott!" Alan watched the spirit level. _M__ore reliable than technology, right? _"Look, I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused... and... I love you. Tell Dad when you find him..."

"Alan. You are going to land that plane. You _will_ see Dad when we find him. You _will_ get home!"

Alan smiled weakly. "Thanks, guys..."

The spirit level showed him at the steepest angle he had ever flown a plane at. Thunderbird Three was another story, but a plane relies upon level flight.

"600 feet."

Alan watched carefully as the runway edged closer and closer to him, closer and closer. Then Alan remembered something crucial, and noticed something even more crucial. It was Saturday.

"Scott - Scott! It's Saturday! This is Brushcheek! _Family day!"_

"What?"

"_Racetrack! _I can see people there!"

Alan squinted without losing too much focus. Yes, it was too late in the day for racing, but there were campers around there. Smoke from barbeques was rising and disappearing into the atmosphere after not very far. That's why they didn't see those people earlier.

"Keep going Allie! There's no-one on that track!"

Alan grinded his teeth together, feeling the unrelenting turbulence. His thoughts were now plagued with the people, families, below him, whose fate was uncertain since he didn't know his own at this point. Alan saw children, he saw parents, he saw friends, relatives, lovers, couples... He saw all those people, and they had not heard him approach. They hadn't seen him approach because of this. And the one thing that Tracy One was not equipped with... was a horn.

"Touchdown!"

Alan straightened out just as the runway was about a hundred feet from him, and grunted as the plane slammed to the ground, the nose hitting the runway with brute force and as a result, the front landing gear gave way with no resistance. He braked hard, so hard that he was whitening his knuckles. He could hear the scraping of metal beneath his feet, and then the _bang!_ of something, his tyres he supposed, like a shotgun going off at his feet. The screeching of his remaining tyres was painful to hear and Alan had to take deep breaths to ensure that he was staying calm. The bottom of the right engine was scraping the runway

_I'm down. I'm down, just gotta slow down. I'm on the ground, I'm still here, I've got to slow down!_

The plane was still going way too fast, and in the distance, far away from him but on the runway nonetheless, was the group at the very far end of the track. There was a look of confusion and terror in their body language. With no nose gear to help Alan turn the plane, he had no choice but to keep going. No choice to change direction and avoid them. He had to slow down! But having said that, he tried varying the pressure on the landing gears in the hope that he would be able to turn but a few degrees to try and avoid them. He was doing all he could to stop the plane in time. It was just becoming difficult to.

"Guard -!" Alan shouted in realisation as he ploughed straight into it. The next thing he noticed was smoke instantly filing into the cockpit, not obscuring his vision completely but it was enough for him to notice. Well, it was smoke. He was inhaling it even if he wasn't seeing it. "Smoke, lots of smoke!" But then Alan thanked his lucky stars that he _did _run into that guardrail... because that is what slowed him down to a complete stop.

There was silence as the dust settled. Alan took a deep and exasperated sigh before coughing, then smiling. _YEHEHESS!_

"You did it!"

"All right!"

"YES!"

But Alan wasn't quite out of the woods yet. There was a sense of joy, and then a very real panic began to set in. He didn't want to take any chances.

"Checklist -" a cough, "checklist!" Alan reached down the side of the pilot's seat for the little emergency book that had never been used on this plane. He knew it was there, for emergency landings such as this, but had never had to use it. "Fuel shut off -!" (_Oh the irony._) He flipped the switch. "Cabin depressurised!" he flipped another. "Electrics -!" he coughed as he turned off the electrics manually, even though, twenty-one minutes after running out of fuel and out of options, he has not used any. "Complete!" Alan wasted no time unbuckling his seatbelt and rushing from the cockpit, grabbing a fire extinguisher as he went, opening the door and choking as the smoke that had built up in the cabin escaped into the atmosphere. The stairs deployed and he did something he had always wanted to do when alighting a plane - slide down the handrails.

"Are you alright?" Someone beside him asked, and it wasn't one of his brothers.

Alan choked an acknowledgement before taking the fire extinguisher to the front of the plane and trying to extinguish any possibility of a dangerous fire as he did so. Some other men came and joined him, also carrying fire extinguishers.

"Never go to a racetrack fire without a fire extinguisher, hey kid?" One of the men joked.

"Are you all alright?" He asked.

"You sure know how to make an entrance. We saw you, nearly bolted. You alright then?"

"No one injured. Is there anyone else on your plane?"

"Nope."

"Glad you're - Hey, it's International Rescue!"

* * *

"Well, well, well..." A sneering voice sounded behind Kayo as she crept across the hollow hall. "Tanusha... _Kayo_... whatever you would like to be known as..."

"To say you're a master criminal, you really should learn to seek out better hiding places... _uncle._"

"Nyhehehe..." He chuckled darkly. "I'd have thought that you would have learned that the best place for you is to be respectable and came to work for me, I promise that you would have a better lifetime if you do..."

"How about... no."

"Come now niece, don't you owe it to your father? To your own family?"

"_You_ are not my family. My father disowned you because you're a criminal. And guess what? Tracy Island is in _no danger_ from you, or anyone, because a little bird has completely shut down your computer systems... a bird known to the world as Thunderbird Five."

He chuckled again. "But what about little Alan Tracy? No fuel equals no power, no power equals a very dangerous landing... I would be surprised if he didn't crash it in open country just to 'save a few lives'..."

"That would be a shame... but guess what? You aren't getting the Thunderbirds. You aren't getting Brains. And you aren't getting _me_, not now, not ever!"

"Did you really think that you could stop me and my forces, who can outnumber you by at least ten times?"

A swift spin-kick to the chest of the man creeping up behind her answered his question, a loud _thump_ echoing through the hall. The man to her left made a swift swing, which she ducked out of before pulling back her arm and punching him in the nose. The third man, to her right, held a gun. She hesitated for a moment, but swiftly made a grab for the gun whilst sidestepping out of its aim. Elbowing the man in the shoulder and taking a grip on his firearm was easier than she expected. She removed the ammo cartridge, threw the gun over her left shoulder and the ammo at the Hood, who recoiled as it nearly struck his bald head.

"What can I say? Ruining your plans is the _best_ part of my job!"

"Why am I not surprised... but good luck trying to stop me _next _time." The Hood pressed a button on some kind of remote, causing him to be raised up on the platform. Kayo watched as he clambered around above her, hearing something rumble by the time she reached where his ship was hiding. It had taken off, but she knew that Tracy Island, the brothers, and everyone else, was safe.

And for now, that was all she could ask for.

* * *

Alan had been taken back to Tracy Island, with the wreckage of Tracy One being dealt with by family friend aviation engineers and their lawyers. Alan was glad to be home, but vowed that, unlike Kayo, he would stick to commercial flights. That, or his Thunderbird, where _no one_ could tamper with it. Well, Gordon could. And he had.

Another peaceful day on Tracy Island drew to a close... with Alan's guttural roar of "GOOO-RDON!"

* * *

**Please review? REMEMBER - 2015 Series.**


End file.
